Under Control
by Redeye
Summary: Heero deals with internal conflicts on his way to his next assignment. My first fic, please R&R!


*Author's note* This fic isn't set in any specific part of the Gundam Wing story. Lets just say its loosely based around the beginning. Enjoy ^_^  
-Redeye-  
  
Silence makes a good companion for those with clear heads, its natural tranquility able to shine brightly. For those with minds clouded with dark and important matters however, the silence did nothing but make the problems more obvious, easier to see. Sometimes it is best that the mind keep things hidden. Heero Yuy was learning this cruel fact, drifting through the empty void of space. It would still be awhile before he arrived at his next destination, even going at the speed provided by the Wing Gundam of which he resided. As much as it didn't show, small things were starting to get to the young man. The visor upon his helmet fogged frequently, making vision difficult. Inside the suit itself there was a damaged seam which irritatingly rubbed against him, no matter how much he attempted to position himself. There was absolutely no one out there, nothing to look at, no one to talk to...  
Shut up.  
The voice in his mind commanded him, as it did often. This was the voice of reason, and of logic. Often times when Heero found himself thinking of petty matters, this voice would speak up, rescue him, and bring him back to where he was supposed to be. Over the years, this voice had guided him deep into the ideology that when concentration is wasted upon matters that mattered not, the mind went to waste, and the mission was put into danger.  
The mission was never put into danger.  
A heavy sigh escaped the vacuum-chilled lips of the warrior. Around him, the systems and inner workings of Zero-One hummed and blinked about their usual tasks, oblivious to everything aside from the one objective that they were programmed to carry out. To them, nothing else mattered.  
"You don't know how much I envy you, old friend." Heero muttered quietly, nearly inaudibly. He spoke almost similar to a child attempting to speak under the notice of a disapproving parent.  
It's just a machine. You waste your breath.  
This was the truth, it was just a machine, and Heero was illogical to even bother. Statements addressed to no one but ones self were completely wasteful and useless. The boy bit his lip slightly and closed his eyes, slight feelings of scorn directed at himself rising up from within him.  
Don't bother regretting. That is useless as well.  
Again, the voice was right. With a slight shake of his head and a bit of adjusting in his seat, Heero slouched slightly. At times such as these it was best to simply clear the mind and prepare for what tribulations lay ahead in the future. Might as well get some sleep, as there wasn't much else to do. With this and a great amount of other things on his mind, Heero closed his eyes.  
At that moment in time, it seemed that space would swallow up the cosmic castaway. Light-years upon light-years of emptiness pushed in on the human-like Gundam and its machine-like pilot, crushing, enveloping, and erasing them from existence. Silence was something he was forced into getting used to, but this..this was so....quiet.  
Relena.  
It was the small, innocent voice within Heero. It was the voice abused, maimed, beaten, left, and forgotten long ago.  
No.  
The voice was as cold and definitive as everyone viewed the warrior. It stamped down hard on the thought, franticly cutting off any others thoughts that would tributate from it as well. Heero's eye twitched slightly.  
Now is not the time. There will never be a time.  
Heero painfully agreed with the reasoning. It was true, and any other ideas that he would gather on the subject were wrong. This strange sensation inside of him, though. It appeared whenever he mistakenly allowed himself to think of the strange princess. There was no way that this could possibly mean..  
They are useless enzymes and chemical messages relayed from the synapses of your brain. You are incapable of feeling anything. Emotions are man made labels put on useless sensations of the human brain that few have the willpower to control. You are above it.  
Battering down an internal conflict rising from deep within him, Heero flinched, almost painfully. After a moment he let out a relieved sigh. Everything was under his control, and nothing was going to stop him from achieving what had to be achieved. Just as it had been for his entire life.  
More time passed, the silence grew inside the Gundam and inside its pilot. Sleep was ever evasive, slipping past the boy before he could have a chance to grasp it. It mattered for not, though, as Heero didn't care. Awake, asleep, aware, unaware, none if it mattered. He was always in control; no matter what label was given to his current state of mind. Heero stayed close to this idea, clutching it for dear life, much as a frightened child does with a favored stuffed toy. This idea kept him warm, kept him calm, kept him in control.  
It keeps you under control.  
His eyes grew wide as this thought flooded into his psyche. Was it true? Was everything that he believed just a way to keep him under control? To use him as a tool for a guiding syndicate?  
That is completely irrational and you know it. Those who cannot control even their own thoughts are-  
The voice of reason was far too late. How had Heero been before he was made into what he was? What right did they have to program him, change the course of his life? Alter his mind to whatever strange liking that they saw fit, to best use him for their interests. The questions were coming in, as if a dam had broken in the back of his mind, a dam that he never could have imagined existed.  
Where has this lead you? What has been accomplished by your pointless squabbling? Are you in a better place? Are in you a happier life? To resent the only things that are available to you is to reject life itself. You are weak and worthless!  
For a moment, Heero felt as if his head was being held under a body of scalding water. He was engulfed, confused, and frightened. However, something then grabbed at the back of his head and jerked him away, back to safety. This hand was the voice of reason, pulling the frightened Heero Yuy away from the unfriendly sea of confusion.  
Heero couldn't believe that it had happened again. What was happening to him? There was something wrong here, and even logic couldn't disagree with that. Yes, there was something wrong, but Heero was in control again, and no petty problem within him was too large to handle.  
Allowing himself a laugh, Heero sank down deeper into his seat. He couldn't believe that he had become who he was a few seconds ago. In fact, he hated who he had become just moments ago with every scrap of his being. This short, pointed, sharp chuckle floated around the silence of the cockpit before fading away into nothingness. A ghost of what could have been a grin floated on the boy's face. Thanks to the guidance of self-discipline and reason, he was finally at peace again, and nothing could ever change that. Not even the worthless voice in his head which fed him these worthless ideas. As it had been before, this childish voice had been beaten down. Perhaps this time it would learn to stay dead.  
Fully in control, Heero's thoughts drifted to the mission at hand. One especially interesting subject was that of the other pilots that he would be working with. Silently, he analyzed each of them within his own head. He started with the one of which he had had the most recent contact with.  
Quatre Winner; a pilot of quite strange character. The boy seemed to have an aura of innocence around him, making him seem the most unthreatening of all the pilots. He held strange beliefs of peace and pacifism, which of course could never become reality. Being the warrior that he was, Quatre should have realized this, yet he still stood by them and tried to get others to do the same. This was just the beginning though, and the tide of war would surely change the beliefs of the naive boy. Should he crack, Heero would dislike having to kill him, but he would most certainly not hesitate to do so.  
Trowa Barton; The silent showvanist. The silent efficiency of the clown was dangerously similar to the attitude of Heero himself. If Trowa's true nature was anything like he showed, he operated very similar to Heero. Of course, if he were anything like Heero, he would never show his true nature. Either way, he was a smooth operator, but Heero trusted him as much as he would trust himself. He deffinantly would not come anywhere near himself.  
Duo Maxwell; this odd fellow went around calling himself the God of Death. No one like that could be completely right in the head, but those who are insane are far more loyal than those who are cool-headed. It was a proven fact. However, it was probably over zealous to call the pilot insane, with so little known about him so far. Given, Heero didn't trust him completely, but he was more likely to come through in the end than some of the other operatives.  
Chang Wufei; This vicious warrior was quite unsettling. His raw, vengeful attitude and lone wolf style made him almost completely untrustworthy and unpredictable. He had the makings of a warrior who believed so heavily in something that nothing, not even the wrath of the highest powers, could change it. If the two were to ever cross paths at some time, Heero didn't doubt that Chang would try and kill him without a thought. This one would be under very close observation. The last thing Heero needed was a hotheaded traitor making things harder for him.  
Heero Yuy?  
For once in his life, both voices in Heero's head seem to speak at the same time, both asking the same question of him. Would Heero end up being the weak link, responsible for the failure of the mission? How well did he know himself, and how well did he know that he wouldn't lose his way on the long, complex path that lay before him?  
Before these questions could be answered, the Wing Gundam let out a bleep, alerting him of their approach upon the target area. The boy was secretly glad to have his thoughts taken away from the questioning and onto a more important subject. As his face became grim with the preparation of battle, one final thought ran through his head-  
He would definitely have that annoying seam in his suit repaired.  
After this, the Killer's mind was cleared, the universe faded away, and all that mattered was the mission at hand.  
  



End file.
